Her Father Knew

Victoria turned down the volume and walked away.

For a moment Ella watched her cross the terrace, phone pressed hard to her ear. Then Clara gently touched her elbow.

"You need to sit somewhere warm."

"I've done that."

"Do it again. Humour an old woman."

"You object when anybody else calls you that."

"Anybody else isn't wearing somebody's abandoned boating shoes."

Ella let herself be taken into the small drawing room.

Harris lit the gas fire beneath the old marble mantel. It was June, and the windows were open elsewhere in the house, but Ella held her hands towards the heat with gratitude.

Clara's colleagues went to the library to telephone home. Sophie and James returned to their guests after Ella insisted, twice, that they should have their first dance.

Clara sat opposite her.

"Richard's coming," she said. "His office rang my assistant. Apparently it's urgent that we don't discuss anything until he arrives."

"That sounds like Richard."

"Do you want me here?"

"Yes. But please let me speak."

Clara leaned back.

"I was rather hoping you'd say that."

A waiter brought tea. Ella recognised the chipped blue cup on her saucer. Harris had found it in the cupboard beside the kitchen, where her grandmother had insisted on keeping it after the handle was repaired.

She ran her finger along the old seam.

When she had arrived that afternoon, the service corridor had been full of crates. Two agency staff had cancelled. A supervisor was trying to arrange replacement transport while Anna counted glasses with a pencil tucked behind her ear.

Ella had put down her overnight bag and asked what needed carrying.

Harris had objected to the apron. She had objected to him objecting.

Her grandmother had served at receptions when the Hall could barely afford to heat its kitchens. Helping for an evening had seemed considerably less dramatic than leaving everyone short-handed while she sat upstairs reading figures.

She had also wanted to see the place at work before tomorrow's meeting. The reports described bookings and maintenance costs. None had told her that Anna apologised when someone else hurt her.

"I should have introduced you," Harris said from the doorway.

Ella looked up.

"Would that have helped Anna?"

His hand tightened on the door.

"May I come in?"

"Of course."

He sat on the edge of a chair, still holding the tea tray.

"I didn't know she had threatened the girl until you told me outside."

"But you've heard complaints before."

"Yes."

"What did you do?"

He looked at Clara, then back at Ella.

"Moved people to another section. Told them I'd handle the guest. Sometimes I did. Sometimes I thought moving them was enough."

Ella stared into her tea.

She had signed off on staffing budgets from London. She had thanked Harris for keeping things running and felt reassured when his summaries said there had been no significant incidents.

"I should have asked what that meant," she said.

"You shouldn't have had to."

"Perhaps we both should have."

Anna knocked on the open door. She had brought Ella's phone charger from the kitchen office.

"This might be the right one."

"Thank you. Did you get some tea?"

"In a minute."

Harris put down the tray and stood.

"Now, please. I'll cover your tables."

Anna looked from him to Ella.

"Am I in trouble?"

"No," he said. "And I should have made that clear sooner."

After they left, Clara took a biscuit from the plate.

"What are you going to do about Victoria?"

Ella watched the doorway.

"I'm tired of discussing her as though she isn't responsible for answering."

A voice rose in the corridor.

"You saw her slip. That's what happened."

Ella recognised Victoria at once.

Lucy answered more quietly, but the old house carried sound.

"I saw you put your hand on her."

"Don't start changing your story."

"I haven't given a story."

"Then don't."

Ella set down her cup. The sound of the saucer made both women pause. She had no intention of spending the rest of the night behind a closed door while Victoria chose what everyone else would hear.

She went to the door before Clara could rise.

Victoria and Lucy stood near the long window. Lucy's handbag was open, her phone inside it. She closed it when she saw Ella.

"Your father hasn't arrived yet," Ella said. "You're welcome to wait on the terrace."

"I don't need your permission."

"You do need to stop arguing outside this room."

Victoria glanced past her at Clara.

"You're enjoying this."

Ella held up her dressed wrist.

"Which part?"

For a moment Victoria appeared almost to answer. Then a car door slammed outside.

Richard Ashford came through the front entrance without a coat. His tie was loose, his phone still in his hand. Victoria moved towards him.

"Dad, thank God."

He touched her arm, briefly, then looked past her.

"Miss Bennett. I'm terribly sorry."

Ella stayed in the doorway.

"You've heard what happened?"

"Enough to know this shouldn't have occurred. Could we find somewhere private? Whatever expenses there are, I will cover them."

"The people who heard your daughter accuse me are outside. I'd prefer to speak where they can hear the answer."

Richard glanced towards the courtyard. Several guests had noticed his arrival.

"We don't want to disturb the wedding any further."

"Then let's keep it brief."

She walked out. Clara followed at a distance, leaving Richard and his daughter room to come after her.

On the terrace, Sophie saw them and put down her glass.

Victoria caught her father's sleeve.

"Why are you apologising to her? You haven't even asked me."

"Did you push her?"

"I touched her shoulder."

"Victoria."

"She's a waitress. She spilled champagne on me, and now she's behaving as if she can decide what happens here."

Richard slowly removed her hand from his sleeve.

"The proposal on my desk is waiting for her approval. Did you really think she needed my permission to work here?"

Nobody spoke.

Victoria looked at Clara, then Harris, then the lit windows above them.

At last she turned to Ella.

"What exactly is this house to you?"